


Alternate timelines

by Dannystri



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Love/Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:18:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dannystri/pseuds/Dannystri





	Alternate timelines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chokolait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chokolait/gifts).



Your short heels clack down the hall, you know you're being hunted down, you know everyone hates you, and you know you need to find somewhere to hide, or some means of protection, better than your wand. You'd set your gun down somewhere for safe keeping, and your wand needs to recharge.

But oh, you have a far better plan. It's not too late to make a quick spin on your heel and return to the damage you've done. Murder's only fun if you get away with it.

Your pace is hastened as you hurry back to the scene, but you luckly find you don't have to completely return. There leaning against the railway of the stairs, is your dumbfounded friend. It seems he hasn't spotted you, and your wand seems to have enough juice for one more trick.

With a spin of your wrist you disappear, only to reappear behind the shorter (though you'd admit he's arguable taller if horns didn't count. But height is nothing to you.) You grin, what a fool. It's not until you have your scarf around his neck that he's heard your breathing. You whisper into his ear.

“Kar, darling. I'd hate for something awful to happen, shall I lead you somewhere..” You hesitate. Your monologue would probably sound better if you didn't have that terrible stutter. “More comfortable?” You can tell by his stiff body language that he knows it's not a question.

You press your wand into his back, he doesn't know it's useless, and it just makes you feel more witty. It makes you feel like you've got real power, screw the prince shit, you feel like a king right now. You love spoiling yourself rotten. You love..

“Stop that.” You hear him, yet he sounds shaky. Your eyes shoot open, what are you doing!? You pull yourself away, and tap the center of his back with your wand again, signaling him to continue walking.

But you can't think the same thoughts you'd just been holding. All you can think of is why in the name of all that is holy were your lips up against Karkat's neck like that? This must be some sort of conspiracy, you can't believe you'd behave such a way when you're trying to do something that basically balances whether you're assaulted in the name of justice or not. However watching his neck as you walk makes your mind... Wander as well. You imagine digging your teeth into his skin. You imagine exposing that blood he's so ashamed of. The big secret. Not here though, you swear you just heard a sound. That's not what you need right now.

You open a nearby door, and pull him inside quickly. When he questions you, his voice is a whisper, and almost seems to be shivering.

“Okay, what do you want from me, Eridan?” He asks, trying not to quiver. God you want him to quiver. You want him to shake and become puzzled, just like Sol did when you killed the girl he stole from you. You weren't going to give him the chance to harm her, the anticipation was killing you, You couldn't bear the thought, so you erased it. It was better that way.

“Perhaps I want to kill you, perhaps I want to use you, and perhaps you shall never know. You say, roughly grabbing his shirt, and pulling him to a desk and chair in the room. You shove him against the desk.

“You're mad!” He exclaims, beginning to protest. Its like it's finally setting in. Like he finally gets it, that you're dangerous, and he should be afraid, and angry. You want him to be more of that. You don't allow it when he begins to stand himself up again, you grab his collar and throw him to the floor. You like the way he sounds when he hits the ground, the squeek of inhaled air.

“I'm going to die.” You start, pointing your wand at him. “I want to know who you really are. Who you were born to be.” You say, dropping on one knee and shoving the pointed tip of your device to his throat.

“What the everloving fuck are you talking about you salty piece of trash?” Oh don't act like you don't know. You roll your eyes and jab your stick into his throat again.

“If you're going to play dumb, I guess I'll have to demonstrate.” He say, crawling your way on top of him, he smacks the wand out of your hand, and you replace it's presence with your hand. “I'd be a bit more careful in your positon.” You say, roughly shoving him against he floor. His palms join his back, probably instinct. “I want to see you bleed, and sob beneath me.” You say, you haven't even noticed yourself leaning in again.

“Get the fuck off me, you sick fuck.” He says, calmly. He doesn't want to let you win, he never lets you win. You hate him. This is no kismesistude, this is no rivalry. This is _hate_ that you feel. You don't listen. You dig your jagged teeth into his neck. You feel him flinch, and hear him gasp. Whether he gives up again, you've won already. You feel like a fucking god. You've made him make a sound. You've hurt him enough to make him whine, to make him shiver with fear. You let your teeth leave his flesh and lick your chops.

You feel hazy, you don't concentrate on his blood, you don't concentrate on the taste, you look his face up and down, but all you can see are eyes and.... lips. You Lean in, losing your vision to your heavying eyelids. You whisper a few soft words with promise.

“I hate you.” You don't cut yourself off, you let yourself finish. You know he looks a bit shocked, like all those years of chumming it up were there. They were. But you've always envied him. You've envied how he wasn't perceived by others. There was nothing to perceive. There was no light on the hidden subject on his born status.

_It murders you._

You let your lips brush his, and shiver yourself at how soft the touch is. You don't care about that. You don't care about anything.

You hiss loudly, ripping yourself away from him, only to be sceuard further onto what's pined itself into your back. You look down at yourself to see a set of blue claws piercing their way through your shirt, dripping with your own blood. Your vision is being blinded with spots of white, and purple. You quickly look to karkat.

You strain yourself, you can't see it. You can't see his blood color, you can't see anything. You can't feel anything. You hear your body landing on the floor, but you can't feel it. You can't bother breathing, you can't stand the way it wheezes in. You feel like you're disappearing. Everything is black, and nothing. Maby this is for the better. Maby it's best for the bloodshed to end. Maby it's best, you never knew.


End file.
